You're Alright, Tonight
by wowsugarpuss
Summary: Veronica rescues Logan from school... and himself. They take a little road trip. AU.


**Let's go, I know I'm faded.**

Veronica brushed past him in the school's parking lot, grabbing Logan's hand and dragging him along with her forcefully.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snapped his neck round to face her.

"Um, ditching school with you," she said in her best faux-duh voice, rolling her eyes.

"I don't want to do anything with you – let alone ditch." He let her keep the tight hold on his hand even as he protested.

Veronica stopped, taking a half-step to face Logan. "Well you could go back and play round two, get in another fight and end up spending the afternoon with Clemmons. Or you can shut up and get in my car."

"You sure you're not going to try and molest me? I've heard things about you, Veronica," he raised a cruel eyebrow and instantly regretted the words when he saw the crumpled expression she couldn't keep from her face. That was the problem about knowing what would hurt people most, when they hurt Logan he was inclined to use that knowledge.

"Fine," she dropped his hand, tried to be angry rather than hurt, "I give up – go on, wallow, I don't care anymore."

He ignored Veronica, lengthening his stride to overtake her. "There'd better be alcohol involved."

"Am I that bad?" she was only partly joking.

Again Logan ignored her as he continued, "And we're taking my car."

Veronica quickened her pace, trying to keep up, "Oh, no we're not."

"Yours is a piece of trash," he noted unsympathetically.

"An inconspicuous piece of trash that nobody will notice on the highway," she pointed out.

Logan stopped as her last sentence sunk in, "Where did you have in mind?"

"Vegas, LA, Mexico, New York – what's your pleasure?" she challenged him.

Logan didn't hesitate with his reply, "Anywhere but here."

**Just don't let me ride here by myself.**

"Can I drive yet?" Logan tapped his fingers along the dashboard impatiently.

Veronica didn't even give him a sideways glance as she replied, emphatically, "No."

"Why not?" he whined.

"You're not insured," she explained in a matter of fact tone. Veronica still kept her eyes trained to the road.

Logan grumbled, "But I'm bored."

"Play a game," her patience was wearing thin.

"By myself?"

"I'd wager you're pretty good at playing with yourself."

"That smart mouth is going to get you in trouble someday."

"What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment," she smiled a little, "I do have _you_ in my car."

There were a few moments of peace in the car before Logan's whining started up again, "I'm still bored."

"You're not driving," she replied, exasperated.

If she had been looking at him instead of the vast road in front of them Veronica would have sworn that Logan was pouting.

"Then we need to pull over at the next gas station."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because if I'm not designated driver then I'm gonna make the most of it," he grinned.

She shook her head a little with a deep sigh, "I'm not sitting here watching you get drunk, Logan."

Leaning back in his seat, hands folded and stretched before him Logan grinned. "Well, since you should be keeping your eyes on the road that won't be a problem."

**Ducked out, 'cause paranoia's setting in.**

It was nearly dusk and the hotel they had checked into wasn't exactly high class, but since Veronica had refused to let Logan pick up the tab he couldn't exactly blow the budget on accommodation unless they were going to stay in different hotels.

He looked up suddenly. "Won't your dad be looking for you?"

Veronica smiled to herself, "Sudden concern? How sweet. But no, he's out for a few days – should be back Sunday."

"I didn't need the details."

"You're an ass," she glared at him.

"Whatever."

"What?"

"Nothing, let's get out of here," he dismissed.

She shot him an annoyed glance. "I'm sorry is the thread count making you cranky?"

He grinned coldly, shaking his head as the tip of his tongue pressed mockingly into the corner of his mouth. "I just, I can't believe I was dating you."

"We didn't even go on a date, Logan. I'd hardly call it 'dating'," she noted.

He sighed in mock disappointment, "Yeah. It's a shame you didn't get a chance to crack out the truth serum at dinner."

Veronica's patience was cracking as she advanced on Logan. "Of all the ways I could say sorry which one would you actually listen to?"

"I don't want your apology – you don't mean it," he accused.

After a moment she backed down, keeping her voice even, "No, I guess I don't."

His eyebrows darted in a quick raise, lips pressed into acceptance. "See? So the dating thing was for the best. Nice idea in theory."

"Y'know you really fight for what you want, it's _inspiring_," Veronica let sarcasm color her tone.

Logan looked up defensively, a hand moving through the air between them, "Who said I want this?"

Veronica broke his gaze and his own eyes trailed to the floor. The silence was thick and awkward – painful. They both knew he was lying.

"I need a drink," he muttered finally.

"Yeah, me too," she agreed with an anticipatory sigh.

**No pride, 'cause I don't seem to care a lot.**

"You're still here," he slid round the edge of the door, dumping a small bag full of snacks on the bed.

She looked up her face a calm mask, "You sound surprised."

His lips were pursed, "Can you blame me?"

"Why is it always about blame with you?" she questioned desperation edging into her voice.

"Why can't you trust anyone?" he shot back, hurt and frustration lacing up the words.

"You don't _know_ me, Logan."

"No, _you_ don't know me."

"I used to," she all but shouted back.

He responded in kind, taking a step towards her. "Well, I used to know you, too."

"What kind of pissing contest is this?" Veronica looked up at him, eyes a question.

Logan broke their gazes, taking a half step away to turn from her, hand thrown up to run through his hair restlessly. "I just—I can't win with you!"

She tried to stay calm, "Who said you had to? This isn't some game – you don't _lose_"

"No, I do. I _always_ lose. This time I lost you."

"I'm right here."

He turned to face her again, voice quiet and pained before he caught himself, "Yeah, and we're going to drive back to Neptune and—you know what? Forget it."

"What?" she pressed.

"Just leave it," he muttered sharply.

Now she was frustrated, "Gosh, and they say you have communication problems."

"I trusted you! You know? I just thought—"

"Logan…"

"Don't," he took a deep breath before continuing, "It was a mistake."

"I didn't mean—"

He cut her off, "Can we just get something to eat?"

"Okay," she swallowed hard with a sharp nod.

**Dropped out, hand extended for a friend.**

"Remind me to make you a fake ID when we get back," she eyed the bouncer that was smiling broadly at them, edging into the distance.

He gave her a plain look, waving the piece of plastic between his fingers in her face, "I have a fake ID."

"A good one," she clarified.

He glared at her, "If you didn't look twelve we wouldn't have gotten ID'd."

"If you had ID that didn't look like you made it with a pack of crayons we wouldn't have been kicked out," she smiled too sweetly for Logan's liking.

**Who cares? 'Cause no one's looking anyway.**

"Do you hate me?" her voice was lazy on the evening air.

Without hesitation he responded, "Yes."

"No, you don't," she denied.

"Yes, I do."

"Why are you holding my hand then?" she was genuinely confused if not a little unsure of herself.

"So you don't run off and strand me in this shit-hole," he shot back without looking down at her.

"I thought you liked Vegas."

"What's to like about dirt and dust and sweating tourists?"

"Why'd you pick here then?"

He stopped, considering, "Full of bigger assholes than me."

"I could say the same 'bout Neptune," she started gently.

"You could," he acknowledged, "but Veronica Mars doesn't lie."

"You'd like to think that," she grinned.

**Just stay with me, I don't wanna go home.**

"Get into bed," she demanded, arms tight across her chest.

He grinned at her, slurring slightly. "_You_ get into bed."

She wasn't impressed, "Stop being an ass and go to sleep."

"But then you'll leave," he answered reasonably.

"Yes," she stated obviously, "and go get some sleep – like you should be doing _now_."

"I'm not tired," he moaned.

Veronica had had about enough, "Take off your shirt," she snapped.

"Take off _your_ shirt," he smirked back.

"Logan, just get in the damn bed before I kick your ass."

His voice was suddenly pleading, "Don't go."

She hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable with his sincerity. "I have my own room… It'd be a waste," she justified.

"I don't care."

She rolled her eyes at his disregard, "You're not paying for it."

"I will if you stay," he offered simply.

Veronica shook her head, grinning at his inebriated state, "Are you paying me to get in bed with you?"

"Just shut up and stay," he demanded.

"You're such a gentleman."

Sighing, he let himself flop onto the bed, only barely able to keep himself in a sitting position. "Come on, Veronica. I could like stop breathing and die."

"Logan," she warned. 

"_Please_."

There was a long pause before she replied. 'Please' wasn't something she was used to hearing from Logan, "Okay." She started round to the other side of the bed, pulling back the coverlet to crawl in when he interrupted her.

"What are you doing?"

She looked at him as if he was stupid, "Going to bed."

"In your pants?" he asked distastefully.

"Yes."

"You'll have to wear them tomorrow," he pointed out.

Exasperatedly she looked across the bed to where he was swaying slightly, "I don't have anything else."

She was about to resume climbing into the large double when Logan started to take off his shirt – holding it in an outstretched hand he passed it over to her, "Here."

"Uh, thanks," she looked around a little nervously, berating herself as she headed for the bathroom. But this was the most logical thing to sleep in, after all Logan had started off wearing about three shirts that morning – he wasn't going to miss one of them tomorrow.

When she got back to the bed Logan was shirtless, belt on the floor – passed out on top of the sheets.

So much for sleeping without pants, Veronica considered putting hers back on before shaking her head in amusement that she would make herself uncomfortable just to spite Logan.

**So stand still, one last thrill.**

"Hey, honey how do you feel about the steak?" he tapped the menu in front of him, smiling brightly across the table.

With a tight smile she gritted back, "Well, _sweetie_ I was thinking about getting the lobster."

"You tease," he giggled, "you know I can't have shellfish."

"Gosh – my bad!" she brought a hand to her chest over-dramatically, gushing, "Where would I be without you?"

He nodded affectionately, grabbing her hand. "I have no idea sugar, it's just lucky I'm not going anywhere."

After a few minutes of their staring contest – each daring the other to break persona first the waiter began to tire of the show, "Uh, are you ready to order yet sir?"

Veronica pulled her hand back, flustering her way through an apology, "Oh, sorry! Gosh, this is _so_ embarrassing."

Logan's hand fell solidly on her thigh and Veronica tensed in annoyance, "Just engaged, you know what it's like."

"And you couldn't even get a ring that fit," she mock-pouted waving her hand at the increasingly irritated waiter. "It's getting resized; I just want to show everyone."

Finally Logan threw down the menu, replying, "Two steaks, medium rare."

"Thank you, sir," the waiter removed the menus and Logan tried not to crack up in front of him.

"What are you _doing_?" Veronica hissed once he was out of ear-shot.

"What are _you_ doing?" he asked in return.

"Playing along with whatever sick game you've got going," she shot back.

"Hey, it was fun, right?"

Veronica tried to hide the grin splitting across her face, "I think he hates us."

The waiter in question was giving them a disdainful look from the servers' table across the room.

"I think you're right," Logan giggled near her ear.

His hand was still on her thigh and as Veronica turned to face him Logan didn't move to give her space, their noses almost touching they were so close.

"So, we're getting married, huh?" she asked into the space between their mouths.

"Looks like," he replied, reducing the space.

"Then I'm gonna need a really big ring," she smiled breathily.

Their eyes were locked for a full moment before Veronica pulled away, releasing a deep breath. "Oh-kay…"

Logan just made a self-amused grunt and started playing with the edge of the table cloth, staring intently at his own hands.

**So, rescue me and we'll never go home.**

They burst through the door to Logan's hotel room in fits of laughter collapsing onto the oversized bed as Logan threaded his fingers through Veronica's, pulling her closer, the two of them settling down as their laughter calmed and champagne laziness set in.

Lying on their backs as their breathing slowed Veronica felt completely comfortable for the first time since their impromptu little trip had begun. It was quiet and her head was pillowed on Logan's arm and her chest ached from humor for once. And she was a little tipsy and everything was just warm and good and fun.

She sighed softly, indulging in silence and warmth. "I miss this. I miss _you_," she admitted quietly.

His free arm was stretched up under his head, elbow bent so that his hand could brush through the ends of her hair.

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding slowly.

She rolled over that she was on her stomach. "You ready to go home?"

"Maybe," he replied with a sleepy grin.


End file.
